you'll need light ( to light the shadows)
by letusbebrave
Summary: "What if your last name wasn't Simmons anymore?" He questioned again, but she still stared at him with a confused glance. This wasn't how he had ever imagined doing it (everyone had imagined marriage, no matter how cynical).
1. Could you make it on your own?

"And the extraction team?" Jemma asked nervously as she fiddled with her skirt.

Jemma understood how missions worked; especially solo missions with no contact. She had been on the team for long enough to realize that. There had been too many instances of Grant coming close to death for her comfort level. They had been on the Bus for almost two years. Jemma knew what the missions were like when they returned to the Hub. Danger always followed when Ward was sent out on his own.

It was when he jumped out of the plane to save her that things changed between them. Nearly a year and half had passed since Jemma knew that she had developed feelings for Grant. It took Grant longer to admit his feelings for Jemma. Shameless flirting was all they shared until a mission that ended with her having a broken wrist (_from tumbling down a cliff that was really her own fault_). When Simmons had been all fixed up from the incident, Grant had been so _angry_ with her. The confusion had began to eat at her before he kissed her and it all made sense. His hands were firm against her and Jemma didn't hesitate to kiss him back.

It was a month after that before they even considered a relationship, let alone telling the team about it. Coulson was the first to learn – well _technically_ Melinda had seen them before Coulson heard about it from them. The fraternization regulations in SHIELD weren't a strict as Ward would have expected them to be. It probably had more to do with Director Furry's own personal opinion on the matter. The two of them had put more "rules" on their relationship than the organization did.

They had told the team only they were sure in their relationship and they made sure that it was nowhere on the records. Ward didn't want anyone to know his weakness was Simmons (_it would only put her in more danger_). It meant no "coupley" action, although they never did. Public displays of affection weren't allowed, but it worked for the two of them.

"There's none."

The words shocked her and she stared stunned at him for a few moments.

Jemma was only Clearance Level 5. Jemma wasn't allowed to know _what_ the mission was; all she knew was he was going in alone. Even knowing any more information wasn't technically allowed. Jemma wouldn't have asked what the extraction was like if someone else had gone with him. Worry wouldn't have overwhelmed her.

"Wha—What?" she asked as she stayed on her space on his bed. He said nothing in response and she knew that she hadn't misheard him by some chance. It was bad enough that he was going in alone, but now they had no plan to rescue him after he risked his life? "Grant..." her tone said it all. Jemma knew that she didn't need to say anything else

"This is the job, Simmons." His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. She isn't the only one that has to be worried about all of this. Grant needed to find a way to take out the threat and _then_ get himself out of the situation. There was a lot riding on the mission (_as well as getting back from it_).

"You know I hate it when you call me that," Jemma said quietly as she looked down at her hands, suddenly embarrassed of her questions. "You _only_ call me that when you're upset."

Tightness left his jaw as he visibly relaxed at her words. Jemma had managed a way into his heart and all he needed to do was hear her voice to know when he was wrong. Grant sat on the bed next to her. His body turned to face hers. His hand moved to grasp hers. It was all that was needed. Just the hand (_his hand_) holding hers was enough. Because Jemma _had_ gotten her way into Grant's heart and she knew him. It had taken time, but she knew his tells now. Just the handholding said so much. It was the "sorry" that didn't need to be spoken.

Grant was more scared than Jemma was.

His actions spoke louder than his words ever could, so when he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, she knew. This wasn't a mission that was easy. Jemma didn't want to lose Grant; Grant didn't want to lose Jemma. Her eyes shut tightly at the realization. These were the times to be strong for Grant. Crying wasn't going to solve the situation.

_Make the most of the moment_.

"What if you weren't Simmons anymore?"

The question broke her out of her silence. Her head tilted slightly at the question. Even to a genius, it didn't make sense. She would always be Simmons—that was her last name. Grant could tell that she was confused and he would have used it to his advantage at any other moment. The times where he knew something she didn't were few and far between, especially when it came to the two of them.

"What if your last name wasn't Simmons anymore?" He questioned again, but she still stared at him with a confused glance. This wasn't how he had ever imagined doing it (_everyone had imagined marriage, no matter how cynical)_. "Would you change it to Ward?"

The confusion slowly left Jemma's face and was replaced by absolute shock. "What?" Her eyes were wide and she looked younger than she was. Definitely not what she had expected.

"Let's go off base, just for the night. We can get Coulson's permission and be back by time for me to go," Grant reasoned. There was more thought put into the suggestion than she expected. "Would you become a Ward?"

Jemma had never expected to be proposed to in the middle of a secret government-run facility—let alone on the night before Grant went away and potentially not come back. She didn't need the time to respond. She knew her answer the moment she realized what he was asking. The moment was just to take it all in. So much had changed in such little time—she never imagined when she had agreed to join the team that any of this would happen.

Make the most of the moment.

The motto they had adopted never seemed as relevant.

"Yes," Jemma nodded as a smile broke out on her face. Hiding her emotions had never been something she was good at, let alone tried to be good at. Grant got to her before she had even started to lean to kiss him. With his hands strong against her neck and waist, Jemma knew that she had made the right decision.

There was no doubt in either of their minds.

* * *

"But, Fitz…"

"Jemma," Grant said with a sigh as he squeezed her hand lightly. "We already agreed not to tell the monkey until _after_."

"Hey!" Jemma exclaimed with a hint of offense in her tone. "He is _not_ the monkey. Do _not _roll your eyes at me, _Ward_. You know you have a soft spot for him."

They had both decided to just have witnesses at the Hub that they didn't know. It was easier that way—the agents there didn't even need to know their names. Coulson was the only one of the team that was aware of their vows. Jemma had nearly kissed him right there when she heard that Grant had already asked "permission" to marry her far before the real proposal. It would have to wait till later due to their own strict public affection rules, the look on her face had been enough until later.

All thoughts of Fitz and everyone else were gone once they returned back to the Bus.

Jemma's shirt was almost completely off by the time they got back to Ward's bunk. Grant's shirt was tossed aside before they even got to the room. His hand slammed against the button to close the door once they were inside.

Ward's chilled hands roamed her hips freely once her shirt was off. Jemma suddenly wished that she had worn lingerie fit for the occasion. It didn't seem to matter to Grant, because the bra was off before he even looked at it. His teeth scraped against her neck as he pressed her against the wall.

This was desperation. They both were craving each other wholly—not just physically. When you didn't have all the time in the world, it changed things. It wasn't that on a normal day Jemma liked being treated like a doll. This time was just different.

_Grant might not return_.

They both knew that far too well. Too much emotion, too many things to be said—it all resulted in a collision of their bodies.

Pure need radiated through both of them.

The first time they had sex, it had been slow. It took a while for Jemma to be one hundred percent comfortable letting Ward see her naked. So much patience occurred during their first time. Grant was more of a gentleman than was expected by anyone—but Jemma knew that from the start. He might be an agent, but that didn't mean that he didn't have a romantic side. Jemma loved that about him.

Grant was a pleaser.

That was something that Jemma learned during their second time of having sex. Jemma trusted him and Grant knew there was nothing better in the world than trust. So when he kissed down her stomach, Jemma had been able to experience what that trust meant for the two of them with her legs wrapped around his shoulders.

Grant didn't leave a patch of skin untouched as he brought his rough hands up to cup her breasts. It had never been an important conversation between the two of them how much experience the other had. Just as long as there were no diseases (and_ Jemma was absolutely certain after a few blood tests)_, it wasn't important. Trust was the important factor. Jemma didn't need to torment herself with images of Grant sleeping with other woman. Plus, she was afraid that Grant might kill the men she had been with.

Moans escaped from the bottom of her through as he sucked down against her neck while he flicked her nipples with his thumbs. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders at the action. Jemma didn't have to look to see the smirk on his face.

"Bed," she mumbled as his hands groped her. Red blushed against her face as he pulled away and moved his hands to her hips to lead her to the bed. The room was small, so the bed was only meters away. Jemma didn't let him push her against the bed right when they got onto it.

Jemma made sure to keep breathing as she unbuckled his belt. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the intensity in Grant's face. The air around them was thick with tension as she unbuttoned his pants before pulling the zipper down. "Pants," she whispered before he got off the bed for just a moment so that he could slide his pants off. The socks came off quickly afterword and Jemma suppressed the giggle that wanted to come out. She found it absolutely charming that he wouldn't leave his socks on when they were being intimate. Once he sat back down, she captured his lips with her own. The tension returned to the air as her hand slowly trailed down his muscular chest. Pure muscle rested against her fingers as she trailed down his abs.

Her hand moved until she reached her destination. Jemma wasn't surprised at how hard he was already. She knew he wouldn't be able to take much before he would come. Jemma knew that she matched him in arousal. The dampness reached through her silk panties.

"Jemma," he warned against her mouth as her hot hand slowly pumped him. Her fingers squeezed lightly as he spoke. Ward knew she did it so that the moan would escape his mouth. For what Jemma lacked in dirty talk, she made up for in action.

There was no doubt in her actions when she leaned over to take him in her mouth.

She remembered the first time that she had gone down on Grant. It wasn't as embarrassing as she would have thought. It gave her the power—the control. It thrilled her to see the human body in action—especially when she caused it. To know that she caused his white knuckle against the table that he leaned against… it quickly became one of her favorite activities.

Jemma loved how his fingers twisted in her hair as she went down on him. Lips touching flesh as her hand accompanied her. She hummed her approval of his fingers against him. As soon as she does, he shutters beneath her and she knows that he's closer than he would care to admit. All the roughness had left his touch as he gently urged her up from her place against his lap.

Their gazes connected once she sat up. There was so much more at stake during the next few days (_maybe even weeks_) than either one of them wanted to admit. How would Jemma cope if Grant actually died? It might devastate her to the point of no return. She was already a mess when he was gone… if he was gone forever, who knows what would occur.

"You'll be okay," he promised in a whisper as if he could read her thoughts. She had never been good at hiding her emotions anyways. Grant could read her like a book. Even with Grant's extensive training, Jemma was able to read his emotions as well. Her boyfri—_husband_ wouldn't admit he was scared to protect her from it. Jemma didn't want that. The words wouldn't come to her, so she tried to put it all in the kiss. Her mouth was hot against his and he pushed her down on the bed.

_Don't die. _

Her actions did the talking. The words might have escaped her mouth, but she wasn't paying attention. All she focused on was how he pulled down her skirt, and panties, without a second thought. It was easy for her kick them off the bed to lay next Grant's own pants. Her entire body leaned up into his touch as his hands roamed her sides and his lips sucked against her collarbone. A hand reached down and a moan escaped her lips as he touched her.

There was the pleaser side of him.

_You're the most important thing to me._

His rough hands were so soft as he slid a finger, then two (_oh) _inside of her. Even when he touched her face, Jemma could always feel the way his fingers had aged with hard work. It was different when he was inside of her though. All those thoughts vanished and all she could focus on was how good he made her feel. Being with him had showed her how sex could be like. It didn't all have to be about actually having sex—there was so much more to it than that.

The giggles, the laughter all had their place in the bedroom with them, but tonight wasn't the night for it. It was the time for just passion and absolute adoration for the other.

They were making love. As corny as it sounded, Jemma knew that was what they were doing. Now it was instinctual. They were speaking to each other without words.

_I adore you._

These simple moments were the ones that mattered. Grant etched it all into memory. There would be many lonely nights in the days ahead and if he could just remember the way she arched into him, the way the sweat began to glisten on her crinkled forehead—then he'd be able to make it through it all.

_Let me take care of you._

He spent the rest of the night trying to memorize exactly how she feels, how she moans, how she looks when she comes apart around him.

Even if she would never know, Jemma would be the reason that he made it through it all.

* * *

Grant wasn't afraid for the mission. That wasn't going to change. He had his orders and he would complete them. If anything, all he was concerned about was Jemma. There was a moment where he considered leaving her asleep when he left.

Grant always woke up before she did.

It must have been the internal alarm clock that he had regulated so long ago. By 5:30 in the morning, he was ready for the day. Grant considered slipping out without waking her (_because it'd be easier for him_), but then he had looked at her. Grant wasn't a coward. That was a burden that he wouldn't place on Jemma. There needed to be a goodbye. For both of them. His arm stayed wrapped around her shoulders as she rested half on him. They hadn't fallen asleep until past 1 in the morning.

(Although he'd never admit it, one of his favorite parts of the morning was just laying with Jemma. She was so comfortable with him. Just being with her made him feel more than any mission ever could.)

Her hand was clenched to the blanket on his chest.

Grant wondered, morbidly, if this would be the last time he would be able to see her this peaceful. He knew that she would try her hardest to keep a brave face for him later on, but he always saw past the fake. His fingers ran through her hair slowly. It was time for him to get ready. Taking a shower didn't seem worth disturbing her peace—but he knew that this would be the last hot shower he would get for a while.

By the time that he got back, Jemma was sitting up in the bed, reading one of the books that she had placed around his bunk. Her body was still wrapped in the blankets. There hadn't been time for clothes last night once they had returned to the Bus. "Morning," he said as he entered back into the bunk and shut the sliding door.

"Good morning," Jemma muttered back as she closed the book that was in front of her. She hadn't really been reading anyways. When she had woken up without Grant by her side it reminded her of what the day was. Everything could change forever after this morning. Her hair hung loosely around her face. Some of it stuck to her neck, while other parts were bunched up. If there had been more time, Grant would have pushed her back down under the covers and had his way with her.

There wasn't the time.

All their time had run up. It upset Grant far more than he expected it too. He had just finished pulling on his pants before he stopped. Of course he didn't want to leave her, but he had to. They had signed up for this life.

The touch of Jemma brought him back from his thoughts. Hands slowly wrapped around from his back and slithered to grip each other on his chest. Bed warmth radiated from Jemma as she leaned against him. Grant could feel the wetness of her cheeks when she pressed her face against his back. Her eyelashes fluttered against his back for a few seconds before he felt them close. Her breathing was deep and Grant tried to match his own to hers.

No words needed to be spoken.

His large hands moved to rest against her small ones. They stood there for what seemed like hours. Jemma was still against his back except for her breaths. The tears felt warm against his skin. If it were any other time, he would have turned and wiped them away. Now… he couldn't bring himself to do just that. This moment was for him—not for her. He knew that as soon as Jemma had hugged him. The hug hadn't been for her comfort; it had been for his. These gentle moments were a reminder why he needed to fight to get back.

Grant needed to get back to _her. _

Jemma was his home. This warm, wonderful woman was the reason that he needed to make sure that he didn't die in the mission. Her kisses against his back broke the silence. Jemma knew that he couldn't handle her light, teasing kisses. Not even in moments like this.

When he turned around, Grant kissed her. It was soft and gentle (_just like she was_). It was his turn to wrap his arms around her body and pull her against him. He could feel her break when his tongue slid into her mouth. The low sounds that came from her throat weren't ones that he longed to hear. They were swallowed down sobs.

"No crying." It was supposed to be an order, but it came out as a plea. His hands took their time running up from her back to her sides to her neck and then finally to her face. Rough thumbs pressed away the tears that had pooled underneath her eyes. Jemma nodded softly and leaned against his touch. "I love you, _Mrs. Ward_."

The name made tears only reappear in her eyes—but for all the right reasons now. Jemma loved the way he said it.

"I love you, too," she whispered her confession against his lips before kissing him again.

* * *

The hardest part was not being able to kiss him goodbye with the team.

They had said their goodbyes in Ward's room, but it didn't seem to be enough as he got encouragement from the other members of the team. Thank God for Fitz, who stayed loyally at her side throughout the entire encounter. Skye was pressing for details, but May was keeping a careful eye on her as well. It was obvious that Coulson had told May about the marriage the night before.

The rest of the team (_well Skye and Fitz_) seemed completely unaware. The other technicians at the Hub had no idea either. There was no record in the database for anyone less than a level 7.

Even with their relationship known, out in front of the team, it was important for them both to be strong and not have Jemma break down in Grant's arms.

By the time that Grant came to say his final goodbye, Jemma was reeling herself in by the last straws of her strength. Fitz was still by her side and she knew that it was a relief to not only her, but to Grant as well.

"Take care of her," Ward ordered as he looked in Fitz's eyes. Jemma would have rolled her eyes at him if she had the energy. Instead she just watched out of the corner of her eye as Fitz nodded. Even the boy couldn't argue with Ward. Fitz had been taking care of her for a long time before Ward even entered the situation. Jemma would need a lot of Fitzsimmons time with Grant gone.

"Stay safe," Grant said softly when he stopped in front of her. The words said everything that Grant couldn't say.

_I love you. Stay safe. I'm coming back._

"Stay alive," she countered with a small smile.

_I love you. Stay safe. Come back to me._


	2. Trying

94 days.

A little over 3 months.

Jemma hadn't stopped keeping count yet.

Everyone knew that the mission was going to take a few months (_although nobody had told her until he was already gone_). He had to integrate himself into _something_ and Jemma knew that the rest of the team was as worried. May had been the one to tell her that they were considering sending someone else in—there was just no sign of him.

That hadn't meant she stopped counting.

The count had continued.

Every morning she'd wake up and cross another day off the calendar she kept hidden in the draw next to her bed. She didn't want Fitz seeing it accidentally. He already stuck closer to her side than he had before (_which was definitely something to be noticed_). Skye stared at her incessantly. May had taken over her training and Skye worked harder than she had ever before. In those six months, Skye had become a full field agent—not level 7, but it was a big step.

Both Coulson and May treated her the same. They both knew what it meant to lose someone important—the other two hadn't felt that pain yet. The team threw itself into interesting missions; ones where Simmons was challenged and she loved it. It kept her mind from Ward and onto something she did get to influence. It didn't stop her from wishing every night he was there.

It didn't stop her from wearing both of their rings on a chain around her neck.

* * *

"Simmons!" Skye's excited voice startled her as she tensed and turned around quickly.

"_Skye_," Jemma reprimanded with wide eyes. "How many times do Fitz and I have to tell you to not sneak up on us when we're in the lab!"

"Sorry—" Skye's tone went down for a moment, but then the other girl's arms were grabbing at her arms and Jemma knew that there was something exciting or wrong happening. "It's—" Skye stuttered with her words for a moment and Jemma just raised her eyebrows in response. So much seemed to excite the other girl. Over the past months, she had become closer with Skye as well. It was nice to have a touch of estrogen, not just having Fitz around to preoccupy her.

"Words, Skye. Use your words."

"They found him! Ward's okay," Skye finally got out. The smile was huge on her face as she waited to see Jemma's reaction. At first, Jemma couldn't move her face at all. Everything was just frozen as she took in the news. Ward wasn't dead; SHIELD had found him. Then she smiled.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

"He is my _husband_!" Jemma exclaimed louder than she intended to. Immediately regret showed on her face. Yelling at Coulson wasn't going to help at all. Her first instinct was never anger—but the frustration over what was happening overruled everything. She didn't have the attention span at the moment to see how Skye and Fitz gaped at her. She had completely forgotten that they didn't know about Ward and her marriage before he left. There would be many questions for her to answer later, but luckily neither of them said a word about it.

_Deep breathes, in and out._

Jemma needed to get her emotions under control. Through the last 94 days, she had been so patient, but now, it was different. Because Grant was out _alive_ and nobody was telling her anything. In her mind, that was fair cause for frustration. Not for yelling in front of her superiors though. "Sir," she started again. Her voice was softer and more sincere. The apology was laced through her voice. Coulson looked unfazed by her outburst. "I must be able to talk to him at least."

"There's nothing I can do," Coulson said apologetically. "Agent Ward has requested no contact until he gets back to the Hub. We're headed there now."

Jemma almost swore under her breath, but the deep breaths she was taking made it difficult for her to do anything else. She bit down hard on her lip as she just nodded her head. She usually enjoyed taking orders, but not this one. Grant should not be able to make these types of decision. Jemma would be fine if she could just hear him for a moment, just _see_ him. But she had to wake on the god-forsaken Bus until they landed at the Hub.

_Damn_.

"So _Mrs. Ward_ is it now?" Skye teased. It actually brought a smile to her face. All she had to do was keep breathing and she would be fine. She could wait another few hours to get to the Hub to see him.

"Oh, don't get cheeky."

* * *

The worst part was waiting at the Hub. Nobody had updated her and she was left pacing in the wings.

Jemma hated it all.

Skye offered to help her hack into the hospital region where Ward was, but Jemma declined. They didn't need another incident with the "night-night" gun again. Sneaking was definitely not something to put in her strength list.

"Simmons?" The doctor's voice called her back to reality. She stopped her pacing to stare at him. "You're free to see him."

Everything didn't stand still while she walked to the door. It wasn't like the scene from that one movie she had watched long ago. Everything wasn't in slow motion around her. The world didn't linger so she could take everything in before she walked through that door.

She was the one who chose to slow down before she opened the door.

The universe didn't do it for her.

She wished it had.

Jemma didn't know what to expect when she walked into that room. Her fingers lingered on the door handle longer than she expected. On the Bus, she had been so impatient to see him. Yet now, she was scared to even open the door. Nobody briefed her, but she could see the concern in Coulson's eyes after they reached the Hub.

Coulson always knew.

_Grant_.

His eyes were shut when she entered the room.

The chart.

It was the first place she thought to look. First instinct wasn't to go wake Grant up—it was to see what she could fix, what was _broken_

Jemma's hands trembled as she picked up his chart. She moved around his bed quietly—he looked tired even as he slept. He didn't look like the same Grant that left her 94 days ago. His hair had grown out along with a beard. His cheekbones—they had collapsed in slightly. Jemma wondered how long it had been since he had eaten.

_Anxiety_.

It was the medical term for what she was feeling. Jemma knew that there were triggers in the mind for these types of emotions, but it was hard to focus on the science when her _husband_ was lying in the bed next to where she was standing. _Broken ribs, multiple contusions on the back and stomach, stab wound—_there were too many things for Jemma to digest. There seemed to be no internal damage—but Jemma knew that Grant had probably been tortured—or at least someone had _tried_ to torture him. Her husband was a fighter.

"_Jemma_," his voice was an unexpected sound. Jemma immediately turned to face Grant. Her eyes softened as they connected with his. All the science, everything that was broken, it could wait. It should have waited from the beginning.

_Deep breathes_.

Jemma couldn't speak. All she could do was drop the file on the bottom of his bed and move towards the top of his body. Tears pooled in her eyes as she grabbed his hand. _Strong and brave_. Jemma wanted to be those things. Grant deserved a wife that was strong and brave. Her breath shook as she squeezed his hand tightly. The chart hadn't explained if she could hug him—she didn't want to _hurt_ him. The deep breaths didn't seem to work, because she could feel them begin to shallow as she took everything in.

"Come here," he whispered before he tugged at her hand. Jemma nervously sat down on the bed beside of him. Her hand shook within his. She wished that her hand was free and she could twist them together on her lap. The old anxious habit would help now.

"I thought—I thought I had lost—" Jemma had to stop as the tears threatened to fall. Jemma knew that she couldn't contain herself for longer. She had held so much in for the past three months. It all broke once she had seen Grant.

"You didn't," Ward's voice was stronger as he sat up. Jemma could see the glimpse of hurt on his face when he adjusted, but she knew that he wouldn't show it to her. "You told me to stay alive. So I did."

"Yes," Jemma trailed off as a tear finally fell from her eye. Grant was alive.

_Grant was alive_.

Their reunion was different than Jemma expected it to be. The confessions of love, the kissing—it didn't happen. All she had was the handhold and even that after a few moments faded. Jemma didn't understand why Grant didn't kiss her or even want to talk to her. He had almost done so—but then he had closed back up. Jemma had started to cry and he pulled away. Damn her tears. Jemma tried hard to look at it from strictly a scientific point of view. Grant must be in shock. He would have kissed her if he wasn't in shock—his body was still reeling.

He would have kissed her.

Jemma had to believe that.

* * *

The breathing didn't work after a few weeks. Her undoubting patience quickly faded. The jabs that were thrown her way were painful. It was painful to see how Skye looked with pity at first and then anger when he spoke to her.

"_He's still compromised, Skye."_ "_Doesn't give him a reason to talk to you like that." "It's fine, really."_

"You don't understand, _Simmons_," Grant said to her.

It was the straw that broke the (_hypothetical_ of course) camel's back. Her patience had run out—the meter was empty. Jemma was stuck between a place of anger and absolute sadness. It was the worst type of emotional torment.

"You're right. I don't," her accent was thick as her eyes filled with tears that were left unshed for the past few weeks. It wasn't over happiness that he was back like it had been in the hospital. No—these were tears that came from hurt. Grant wasn't the only one that had been hurt by this mission. So had Jemma. "I don't understand _you _anymore."

"Simmons." The frustration was clear in Grant's voice, but Jemma couldn't stop. She could see the muscles beneath his jaw clench. She wanted to know why. _Why_ was he holding so much back from her? Couldn't he see how much it was killing her?

"Simmons?" Jemma questioned. She shook her head at her last name. "That's all I am to you now? Simmons?" There was no response. Grant wouldn't even look at her while she spoke. His hands had gripped the lab table between the two of them and his eyes were glaring against the wall. "Maybe I should go back to being just Simmons. I don't know if you're in shock, or having panic, but I cannot help you if you don't _let_ me."

"You don't…"

"I don't know. Right," Jemma said with a small laugh—she had never felt this way before. It wasn't a laugh at him; it was at herself. "I've been so foolish, haven't I? Just a foolish girl with hope."

Maybe hope was a bit like magic… it all belonged in fairy tales.

"I don't understand why you're being so _cruel_ to me. I worried so much about you when you were gone and when I thought—when I thought you were dead. But it doesn't even seem like you care. You don't want to be married to me. Is that it?" Jemma asked, but still there was no response. No eye flicker, nothing. "You just need to tell me. I don't know—you haven't even kissed me since you returned. Not even a peck on the cheek. You're more affectionate towards Fitz than towards me!"

_Deep breathes_.

The tears were coming out of her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. All this time, she had tried to be so strong. Jemma wanted to be the strong wife that could help her husband—but she wasn't cut out for it. "Nothing? You aren't going to say anything to me?" Jemma had hoped (_again with that foolish thing_) that maybe he would just snap out of whatever it was he was in. Maybe Grant would realize how much all this hurt her and just kiss her to shut her up. He had done it before.

Silence.

That was all she was left with. No words, no gazes, just nothing.

"I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry."

"Fitz, I'm really not in the mood for—" Jemma quickly pulled up the bed sheet when she saw that it was in fact not Fitz, but Grant entering her bunk. It hadn't been like this for a while—she felt embarrassed after their argument and embarrassed by the _silly_, flannel pajamas that she had since grad school. "Oh."

Jemma didn't know what to say. Everything had been spoken in the lab. There was nothing else she felt the need to say. Her eyes kept locked on his movements as he moved towards her slowly. The Grant that returned from the mission wasn't the same from when he left—Jemma knew that could happen, but she never expected it to actually happen...

After everything they had been through since he got back—she didn't know if she could trust him like she had before.

Before she could say a word, he was kneeling at her bedside. He was finally close enough that she could see the redness of his eyes, the clenched jaw that held so much in. "Grant," she whispered as all her resolutions broke. There was no need for fear or embarrassment—for the first time, she could see her husband. Everything she had said before in the lab—she hadn't been saying it to the man who knelt in front of her.

Grant's eyes shut tightly at his name and she moved the book that occupied her lap out of her way. His head slowly fell onto her lap. It was an automatic response for her hands to gravitate towards him. One massaged his neck while the other fingers worked their way into his hair.

"_Jemma_."

She could barely hear his words. His face was muffled against her lap and the blankets. Her name—Grant said so much more with it than he had since he returned. Jemma could hear him clearly. Jemma knew that this was all she would get as an apology for now—but it was enough. Whatever happened to him had changed him. It might take years for him to return to the man he was—he might _never_ be the same. Grant was trying.

The emotion he showed meant more than the words he said.

Concern only grew in her as he clung to her lap. Jemma could feel Ward shake beneath her fingertips. The oxygen in the room was hard to come by. Everything that had happened before in the day—it had changed things between them. Something had clicked in Grant's mind and here they were. It didn't seem to be enough to just be touching him with her fingers. Jemma needed to comfort him more. She leaned down and pressed her forehead against the hot skin of his neck. The shaking didn't stop as her hand rubbed the top of his shoulders soothingly.

"It's okay," she whispered right below his ear. "It'll be okay." All she could do as repeat the phrase over and over. Because it would be okay—everything was going to be okay.

It took almost an hour for them both to pull away from each other. The look in Grant's eyes said it all when he looked at Jemma. He was sorry—Jemma could see it. Everything wasn't fixed when he pushed his lips against hers slowly. It didn't _magically_ solve their problems. _Strong and brave. _She had to adopt that motto in the fullest if she wanted this to work. If Grant could try, then so could she.

"We'll be okay."


End file.
